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The Id and The Odyssey; Episode 25

Goodbye, Jankowski's Episode

As Rich peddled
through the residential streets in the dark, he reflected. “It was
a good decision to leave the Jankowsi‘s. It would have been a
distraction for me to stay. The thought of having an older brother
may have been a fascinating thought for the Jankowski girls. Perhaps
I would have been the son Frank never had, nevertheless it would have
taken from the girls what was rightfully theirs. Frank knew that, if
not then he would know it tomorrow or the next day. If I were picked
up by the police today and returned home it would have not been for
nothing. I had learned much and grown more.”

Rich rode with a
confidence he had not had before. The money was assurance that there
would never be any need for me to return home if he experienced
doubts, problems, or trouble. The only circumstances that could force
him to return were those that were sentimental and emotional, not
rational or financial.

The early morning
ride was nearly bone chilling, damp, and foggy. The Jankowski girls
were probably back to sleep snuggly in their flannel pajamas.
Certainly, Frank did not go back to bed. He was probably nursing a
second cup of coffee and the morning newspaper at the kitchen table.
Mrs. Jankowski was no doubt laying in bed with her eyes open and
planning her day. Thoughts of Dad and Mom soon invaded Rich’s
thoughts; subjugating and forcing them into an emotional corner and
demanding that he think of them. He thought of his dad was now at
work. Mom likely also laying in bed and wondering where he was. The
truth of the matter is that he had been gone for years. She just now
recognizes it and is punishing herself as she lay in bed on this
crisp Saturday morning.

Today was going
to be a punishing day. A man on the docks said that southern Vermont
was riddled with steep inclines and winding roads. Fog was a concern,
riding in and out of fog banks, disappearing and reappearing as if a
phantom rider.

There was traffic
to contend with. The plan was to travel through lower Vermont and
travel beyond Bennington.

Rich had grown
restless and impatient of New York. Not only was there an extra day’s
stay, but it was endless. He was thinking, “Somehow the cosmic
forces of the universe have schemed against me and expanded the
entire cosmos in order to make New York infinite. I am going to
outsmart them. I will not eat until passing over into Vermont. If I
am to die it will be at the hands of those invisible cosmic forces
and thus upset the entire galactic sequence. They had not planned on
that!”

At any moment he
expected to experience a time shift to bring the universe back to its
pre October 20th setting. Rich wiggled the front tire slightly. “That
was it,” he said. “I may already be in Vermont or it must be
close.”

Peering into the
distance he saw a nondescript sign. Lunging forward and peddling
faster it came into clear view, “Vermont State Line.” He peddled
past the sign and looked up into the sky and shook his fist,
“Foiled,” he said and strained onward. It was nearly 8 o’clock.

He stopped at a
diner and parked his bike where he was able to watch it. It was a
fine breakfast of pancakes, sausage, and coffee.

In twenty minutes
he was on the road again in the back of an empty flatbed truck; the
invited guest of a man he talked to at the diner.

Before him was
stunning display of mountains like green mounds. His journey charted
around the mountains in a precarious array of twists, turns, and
gentle slopes. If in heaven he would want to reach down and touch it.
No sentiment nor emotion could possibly dissuade me from his decision
and being here at this moment. Although the crisp beauty of the fall
colors had passed days ago, enough remained that with little
imagination the colors could be filled in to complete the picture.

At noon he was
off the truck, because the man was turning north. Rich removed his
jacket. It felt almost like summer day. he stopped for a moment to
inventory his food. In the backpack were four pastrami sandwiches and
two peanut butter and jelly. Under them was a note from Mrs.
Jankowski;

“I thought you
might like these. God bless. PS, the peanut butter and jelly are from
the girls.”

From Kenton Lewis: You Must Read This First To Know What The Heck Goes On Here

This site contains mostly fiction. Currently a novel is posted every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday entitled Beyond Beyond. It is broken down into short episodes between two and four pages each. Thus, if you enter on anything other than episode 1, it would be good the scroll down to find previous episodes.

The archives are full of short stories. Some short stories are very short, just one posting. Others are broken down into episodes also.

Every post contains 350 to 1,500 words.

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This Is He

Taken shortly after my beheading. I refused to give up coffee. "Not from my cold dead hands!"